The Fanfiction Lounge
by Nucleartea
Summary: What do our favorite Axis Powers Hetalia Characters do when they don't have a fanfiction to be in? Crack. Slight Death Note crossover. Rated T for swearing and some slight sexual themes.
1. The Fanfiction Room

**Author's note: Alright, so this fanfiction was originally written for Twilight when I was a serious Twi-hard. *shot***

**I changed it up a bit so it could match Axis Powers Hetalia.**

**I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. It is owned by Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**I can upload the original Twilight version, if someone requests it.**

**Also, chapter 4 to whenever I end the story is completely made up on the spot. **

Happy elevator music played throughout the fanfiction lounge.

The Axis Powers Hetalia nation room was large and white, occasional scratch marks on the walls where many a nation/hero/ex-nation had tried to scratch their way out.

America was busily passing the time away on a pink Nintendo DS.  
"America-san, can I please have my game back?" Japan asked quietly. He then tried to grab the outdated machine from the hero's clutches.

America swatted him away and continued frantically hitting buttons, holding it at arm's length away from the now half-crazed nation. "No way...I've just about captured Pikachu...NOOOOOOOOO... Damn you, Charazard and your ugly dragon's face. Damn you to hell!"

America then proceeded to throw the DS against the nearest wall, narrowly missing England's head.

This particular nation was curled in the fetal position, hands wrapped around his knees while rocking to and fro. He was throwing strange glances at Russia every couple seconds. France was beside him rubbing circles in his back.

"Be careful, mon cherie!" he sneered at America.

China was currently trying to dig a tunnel under the couch with a teaspoon.

"Doesn't any one have a shovel, aru?!" he cried, "Help!! Get me out of here aru!!!" He was shouting at the top of his lungs. "They are all against me aru," he whispered.

Italy glanced over the top of his book, The Little Engine Who Could. "What happened?"

England pressed his hands to his ears and rocked harder, moaning all the while. 'Slash,' France mouthed. England whimpered. Italy glanced at Germany, who cringed. Italy had a strange, out-of-character grin on his face.

Japan was scolding America for ruining his game. He was just about to capture the elusive golden PsyhDuck with his Pokeball.

Italy's vinyl chair squeaked as he rocked back and forth muttering excitingly, "I think I can. I think I can." The Little Engine who Could was his favorite book of all time. He had read it nearly seven times to the date. It was also the only book he could read.

China was furiously jabbing the floor with his plastic spoon. It broke. He threw it into a pile with countless other broken plastic spoons, before grabbing another. "I NEED TO ESCAPE ARU!" he shouted at the linoleum.

Other than that, all was peaceful – somewhat.

Russia, Lithuania, and Poland were playing a game of Slapjack.

Or...Lithuania was playing till Russia squished his hand into a pulp.

"You must now become one with mother Russia, da!" he squealed, scooping up the hot pink Barbie playing cards.

Lithuania whimpered.

Suddenly, a magical giant hand descended from the ceiling.

Everyone waited with baited breath. Who would be the next Fanfiction victim?

The hand was gripping a cream colored sheet of paper.. It slowly drifted towards Italy. He stood, backing up till He was against the wall, "NO!!" he cried.

Germany was up like a shot, standing in front of him protectively, "You can't have him," he growled at the floating appendage.

The fingers swatted him out of the way and he landed with a thump beside Poland. They exchanged mortified glances, and then, like magnets, rebounded to opposite sides of the room. They recently had a…interesting fanfiction together.

Italy clutched his white flag and hoped this fanfiction included pasta. He grabbed the paper sheepishly.

"NO! Not another mafia one" he cried, "if I have to shoot my brother, or be otherwise murdered in some violent, grotesque, slinky related way, I'll..."

But he disappeared with a "pop".

Romano was secretly crying in the back of the room. He always loved the Mafia fanfictions. Why wasn't he ever in them?

At this point France had already tried to rape England while he was in his…fragile state.

"AGH! GET AWAY, YOU BLOODY GIT!"

"But you liked it last night…"

"I WAS FORCED TO, WANKER! THAT WAS A KINK FANFICTION!"

England lunged for France, in a non-sexual way, that is, much to France's dismay.

America had to tear them apart for the fifth time that day.

Spain had noticed Romano's sobs at this point in time, and began to walk over to him.

"It'll be all right, Romano," Spain crooned, "Why don't you have a tomato?" he said as he rubbed a tomato to Romano's cheek.

"DON'T RUB ME WITH A TOMATO D-DAMNIT!"

England maneuvered himself out of America's iron grip, and bounded to the opposite corner of the room. He stumbled on Sealand, who was sitting on the floor drawing suicidal pictures with crayons. (He had the 64 pack, England noted with envy). "Nobody acknowledges me," Sealand muttered.

Germany was sitting on the leather couch on the opposite corner of the room. His legs were together and he sat straight up. He sat patiently waiting for Italy to come back from his torture.

Prussia sat next to him, much to Austria's dismay.

Austria eyed Germany enviously. HE would have Prussia one day…

"HEY WEST! I was just in a fanfiction! They must have chosen me for my fucking awesomeness!"

Germany's eyes rolled. He then noted Austria death staring at him and Prussia while curled in a fetal position.

Germany scratched the back of his neck, "errrm...yeah. Don't you wanna get up off this couch?"

"NAH. THIS COUCH IS FUCKING AWESOME LIKE THE AWESOME ME." he patted the leather beside him lovingly.

That moment, Poland managed to pry Russia away from Lithuania.

"Like God, Liet, why do you hang with Russia so much?"

"I-I-I don't want to…"

"It's like, so BORING with him! Don't you like, love me?"

"But I-"

Lithuania was interrupted by two certain Baltic nations.

"Lithuania! R-Russia said t-t-that he wants y-you. He doesn't l-l-like you near P-P-Poland…"

"LATVIAAA!"

"W-what was that for?"

"I don't know. I needed to do it. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my calculus."

Russia somehow appeared behind them in a creepy, stalker-like fashion. Belarus appeared behind Russia in an ever more stalker-like fashion. Allow me to draw the curtain over what happened there.

A popping sound was heard nearby, and all the room's occupants turned to welcome Italy back.

Mouths dropped. Eyes popped out of their sockets.

Italy was gripping a gun and a strange, blood soaked list of country names. America was listed fifteen times. Italy threw the items to the ground and bounded for Germany, crying the whole time.

"Doitsu! They made me shoot people! They almost made me kill you and America! Don't let me go back for the next chapter, PLEASE!

He then started crying big baseball-sized tears. Prussia walked over and put his arm around his shoulders.

"Italy, did you miss my awesomeness? I don't know why authors don't put me in the stories with you. Maybe they are afraid that my fucking awesomeness will overwhelm the story!"

"Britney Spears…no pasta….ENDLESS DISNEY SING-ALONGS!" Italy screamed between gasps, "WAAHHH I DON'T WANT TO SHOOT ANYONE!"

"Come on, Italy, let's go to your happy corner," Germany said reassuringly.

And so they did – relocating themselves to the far-left corner of the room to an abused green loveseat.

"Hey Italy," Germany started, "you wanna make this corner really happy?" he said suggestively.

But Italy – being Italy – replied as follows: "You brought pasta?!"

Germany frowned, "Noooooo. Something even better."

He appeared lost in thought, contemplating what he had said, then he gasped, "I know. You brought me Pizza." Hope lit up his face.

Germany cocked his head to the side. He knew this would happen.

"Just kiss me, you fool," Germany crooned.

They began a passionate make-out session. At once, everyone removed his or her outer layers of clothing. This would last for a while, and in a room with no ventilation, it would get hot quickly.

"Hey guys," Hong Kong told everyone, "You'll never guess who's in the next room."

He bore a small hole in the aluminum walls.

Italy put down his book. Greece woke up abruptly. Everyone looked at Hong Kong expectantly.  
He was brimming with excitement on the inside, but his face was unchanged, "THE DEATH NOTE CAST!" he exclaimed in his best British accent. Why he did this in a British accent, nobody quite knew.

"BLOODY WANKER! YOU LIVED WITH ME! WHY CAN'T YOU DO A BETTER BRITISH ACCENT?!?" England screamed with rage.

"Death Note?" In a strange British chorus, everyone echoed his in question.  
Hong Kong nodded.

A stampede ensued. Everyone rushed to get a peek at the hole.

"L? L! IS THAT YOU, L?!? MARRY ME, L! MARRY ME!!!" Hungary shouted above the hubbub...and, disturbingly, so did Austria.

Germany sighed, finally removing his lips from Italy's. "I smell a crossover," he said.


	2. America's Southern Stage

**Author's note: I ship EnglandxFrance like there is no tomorrow in this chapter!**

"If we were a movie, then you'd be the right guy, and I'd be the best friend that you'd fall in love with. In the end, we'd be laughin…"

America stopped singing and glanced up at the residents of room Hetalia all staring at him aghast.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I recently discovered Hannah Montana. And since she's from Tennessee, that makes her the most amazing thing since sliced bread, so I shall randomly break into happy, pre-teen self-esteem raising song whenever I bloody well please."

Everyone shook their heads and turned around – all except for England.

"Alfred…" He started, "What's with the bloody…You're not British."

Angry irritation flashed in his eyes. "Well, shoot doggy. I'll be darned if you dang ol' man ain't got t' me."

England sighed in annoyance. America always went to his Southern stage when he was angry.

It had been quite some time since the Death Note. The Great Hand, as it was called, had claimed no one yet miraculously.

Estonia had finished two entire sudokus. China had actually made a dent in the linoleum with his plastic spoons. "I'm free! I'm free aru!" he shouted over and over again.

America was happily singing off-key renditions of various country songs, Gary Allan's "A Feeling Like That" currently. Japan was repairing the Nintendo DS, intent on capturing PsyDuck …using any cheat codes necessary.

Italy was engaged in a witty banter with Misa.

"You're cuter," he said.

"No, you're cuter," she cleverly replied.

"No, you're cuter."

"Stop it. You're lying."'

"No, you're lying."

"No, you're lying."

Et cetera, et cetera.

Poor, poor Germany was having a complete nervous breakdown. He really wanted Italy. Austria was lurking behind him, intent on finding Prussia.

"Ve~ I said only a few things to her, Doitsu. Are you mad at me?" Italy asked. Germany noticed a blood stain on the smaller nation's shirt. _Must have been from that Mafia fanfiction_, he thought.

"It's because she's cute, isn't it?" Germany asked acidly. "I'll never be like that!"  
But he was swiftly interrupted by Italy's lips on his.

Hungary was no longer in the room. Her obsession for L had compelled her to squeeze her body through the centimeter-round hole in frenzied pursuit. It wasn't pretty.  
Afterwards, Spain had encouraged every person to stand in a circle, hold hands, and say a prayer for this unfortunate L fellow.

From the other room, tortured screams and pleas were heard. "Yes, I know I enjoy cake, but get off my leg woman!"

Then, The Great Hand descended. At once, everyone fell to their knees in terrified respect.  
Two sheets of paper were stuffed into the unwilling hands of England and France.

France gave England a sexy look and wiggled his eyebrows. "Did you see the rating?"

His eyes smoldered back. "M…or should I say mmmmmmmmm."

SEVERAL EXPLICIT AND OBLIGATORY SEX SCENES LATER

France and England tumbled into the room looking flushed and panting.

"Wow," France looked at England appreciatively. "I didn't know that could happen."

He nodded back. "I had no idea you were so kinky…or that Scones could be used in such a way."

"Remind me to thank that author," France mumbled.

England smiled and then went to kiss him passionately.

"You're insatiable," he said.

"Sweet niblets!" America suddenly yelled.

"Sweet niblets!" everyone agreed, even China.

"Sweet niblets!" Miley Cyrus suddenly said.

America squealed like a little girl. He bounded across the room with a sheet of paper in his hands.

"The tabloid department is in building five," Germany said as he sighed.

After she left, America sulked over the couch, disappointed.

"Move, America!" Prussia commanded the nation, after he sprawled across the couch.

"No!" He was pouting. "You can't make me."

"This is the only comfy couch and I want to sit!"

"Too bad," he said smugly.

Prussia growled. Before America could bat an eyelash, he had violently grabbed Italy's favorite book and slammed it on his head.

England broke apart from France.

"I'm sorry," he told him, "but I'm tired."

"Tired?!" he demanded.

"Do you even know how they abuse me? I am paired with America left and right, forced with just about every character, had to deal with m-preg stories NUMEROUS times, and I have to go through revolutionary war fics all the time. Do I look emo to you?" England demanded.

France shook his head. "No, England."

"And then, somehow, I find you and we make hot, passionate, almost pornographic sex in ridiculous detail. While all the while trying not to think about America."

"Are you complaining?" France asked, hands on hips.

"Well, no, but it is absolutely exhausting. And then, I for some reason lament over America. I am always so damn depressed. Can't these people write a story where England gets on a yacht, takes a cruise to the Bahamas, and lays all day in a hammock whilst listening to Jimmy Buffet songs and drinking marguaritas with the cute little umbrellas in them? I mean, is that really so hard?" he asked of the ceiling.

Suddenly, The Great Hand swept down again, handing sheets of paper to Germany, Austria, and America.

Since America was out of the picture, Prussia had taken super-glue and permanently attached his awesome butt to the couch, all the while laughing maniacally.

Italy decided that he'd go see what all the Death Note fuss was about.

Looking through the hole in the wall, he saw a France look-alike.

"Wow, you do look like France nii-chan."

"Ohohoho…Do you like thieves?"

Suddenly, something ran into the wall. Italy looked over. Poland had barreled full-force into the aluminum surface beside him.

"Poland, what are you doing?" Italy cried.

"He's like, flirting with you!" he exclaimed.

Italy shook his head. "Ve~ You're overeacting again," he said, before turning to walk away.

"I'll get you yet," P, "Italy is mine, betch!"

"Maybe he will be mine, if, that is, he has committed a certain crime.."

"Like, Huh?"

"Oh, that's just Light," Hong Kong said, "he thinks he's super cool."

"That's Kira to you!" Light told her.


	3. All Heil The Himaruya

"Oh, Spain..." came the singsong, snake-like voice, the snaky factor was made even more creepy by the sing-songiness. "I have a joke for you."

Spain sighed, then approached Light carefully. "If you try to write my name in that Death Note I swear to Mary…"

"He killed ME!" yelled a mysterious, high pitched voice from behind the wall on the opposite side of the room from the Death Note bunch.

"Errrr..." Spain responded, turning around to face the sound. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, I got better!" the voice squeaked.

Germany, Austria and America had come back since the Great Hand whisked them away.

"Don't mind them," said America, "They're some Monty Python lunatics. They keep banging coconuts together and telling me it's horses." He whipped around his head to yell, "I fought in the war! I know what a horse is, and coconuts are not a horse!"

"Ye son of a doofus!" came the chorused reply. "Tis too a horse, and I shall command it to kick you in the fanny!"

America shook his head and grumbled, "You hurl coconuts at me, and I'll shove them down your throats. Are they off limits, China?"

China glanced up. He had long ago given up hope on Operation Plastic Spoon in favor of Operation Crush Taiwan in Texas Hold Em'. Or at least try to. As it turned out, Taiwan was surprisingly good at cards.

He glanced up from his hand, ever maintaining a flawless poker face. "I don't know if other fictional characters count aru...if you ask me a question again, I will hurl myself off a cliff aru."

Light cleared his throat. "Ahem."

"Oh, right, sorry," Spain said.

"So…what is your name?," Light asked a bit to forcefully.

"Do I really have to do this again?" he whined.

"I am God, and you will do as I say!"

"Ok now,you...tell me your name."

Spain's eyes rolled. He really missed Romano right now. Unfortunately, the great hand had swept Italy and him away half an hour ago. "My name is Spain."

Light whipped out his death note and wrote "SPAIN" down in messy scrawl. He did so while laughing a obnoxious laugh.

After waiting 6 minuates and 40 seconds, Light confirmed that this was not Spain's real name.

"Allow me to do this again. What. Is. Your. Name?"

Promptly, and without further ado, Spain grabbed the nearest object he could find...in this case, Sweden's play-doh, and shoved it into the hole in the wall.

"Hey!" cried Sweden. "I was making a rhinoceros."

"Preposterous," Spain replied, then sauntered off, leaving Sweden Play-doh-less and sulking.

"No more cross-overs," Spain announced. "The Himaruya wouldn't like it."

At once, everyone stopped what they were doing. Canada stopped cutting his healing wrists with the broken fish tank shards, China and Taiwan set down their cards, Russia stopped shaking Latvia, Norway ceased threatening Iceland, and everyone immediately got down on their knees.

"All hail the great Himaruya!" they said, extending their arms and bowing over and over again.

"Long live the Himaruya!" cried Egypt.

Nobody paid attention to the fact the Egypt…spoke.

With a pop, Italy and Romano came back to the room.

"Crap!" Romano exclaimed. "Literally."

_Oh no_, Germany thought._ A food-feeding fic_. Romano was never happy after those.

He walked over to him and wrapped his arms around Italy, who was having pasta withdrawals.

"Now you know how I feel all the time."

"Ve. England's leftovers are not tasty." he said. "It's disgusting."

The Italies really had an aversion to food fics that did not include pasta or tomatoes, not so much because of the food. (Snack wraps were back at McDonalds.) The reason was that they were denied any pasta/tomatoes to go along with their food.

The Italies shuddered.

"Corner?" Germany asked.

"You betcha'," Italy replied.

"Alert! Alert! Mayday!" Japan cried, as they began passionately making out. Everyone immediately removed his or her outer layer of clothing.

America glared at the both of them. "You two are single-handedly causing global warming," he said. "Polar bears are dying because of you."

But they didn't hear him...and sadly, just that second, on the Rosenburg Ice Shelf in Antarctica, a polar bear fell down dead.

All of a sudden, Austria stood up. "Hungary! She's now trapped in the Death Note room!"

His facial expression was mortified and expectant- expectant of the mortification of everyone else.

"Good riddance," said Romania.

Everyone else that had been hit by her frying pan cheered and skipped about with glee.

"FUCKING AWESOME HOUSE PARTY TIME!!" Prussia called.

France marched around in a circle yelling "Toga! Toga! No…NAKED! NAKED!"

**  
**Thirty minutes later, the bubble machine was set up. An odd combination of hip-hop and country was blasting from a conjured boom box, and the disco ball was throwing rainbows around the room. Everyone was just about to get their groove on when they all felt it – the call.  
In unison, the residents gasped.

This was the most important call of the day. The Himaruya needed them.

They were all about to meet their maker...in the very best possible way. The Himaruya was using them in his new anime episode.

Radiant smiles were on everyone's face as the hand scooped them up once again and carried them home.


	4. Iceland Farted?

**Author's note: Oh hey there. I haven't updated in a while. I just decided today that I will, in fact, continue this story. You might also be getting the old chapters in your inbox (I am not sure, though) because I will be reposting them in a cleaner format. Thank you, and let the crack begin!**

The Great Hand dropped off the last of the nations who appeared in the latest anime episode. This time was a lovely time for the characters that did not appear as often, (everyone knew the animators at StudioDEEN only animated the characters they liked, but some of the more popular nations didn't have the heart to tell the others.) mostly because they heard the newest notifications about their world.

Today, the news were not so great.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'THE ANIME IS GETTING DUBBED?!'" screamed an outraged Turk.

"WHAT IS WITH THIS SHIT?! I AM BARELY IN THE ANIME!" yelled a particularly grumpy Italian.

"I excited for the new English dub, and also for more chances to see characters like Japan and England and their adventures," Said Cuba.

"STFU, nobody even likes you aru," replied China, who was lamenting over his absence from the anime.

"Yeah, what is with all of this Japan-centric crap? Why no more of the FUCKING AWESOME ME?!" Said Prussia, a little bit too loudly.

"Would you like some cheese with that wine?" Asked England, as he raised a majestic eyebrow.

"W-Wine?! ONHONHONHON DO WANT."

"WEST! GIVE ME BEER!"

"NEE NEE PAPA WAIN WO CHOUDAI, NEE NEE MAMA, NEE NEE MAMA!"

Japan then proceeded to bitch-slap Italy.

"What was that for?" Asked the Italian, tears in his eyes.

"OH HELL NO. DID JAPAN JUST BITCH SLAP SOMEBODY? LAST TIME HE DID THAT WAS WHEN HE BOMBED PEARL HARBOR. NEVER FORGET. NEVER FORGET! I. WILL. NEVER. FORGEEEEETTTTT!" America began chanting.

"STOP STEALING MY LANGUAGE, BITCH! FIRST YOU MAKE THE FUCKING WINX CLUB, NOW THIS?!" Japan screamed in the most OOC fashion.

"HELP ME, FLYING SPAGHETTI MONSTER!" Italy cried as he held a portrait of a certain spaghetti monster.

"DAYUM, YOU'RE A PASTAFARIAN TOO?!" Denmark randomly yelled. "O. M. G. ENGLAND IS A PASTAFARIAN TOO!" He yelled as he pointed a finger at the ex-pirate.

"What do you mean?"

"YOU ARE A PIRATE!"

"YO HO YO HO A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME!" America piped in.

Spain then interrupted the ordeal.

"Excuse me, guys, but the author just alerted me that we have been using way to much dialog in her story," He began.

"YOU MEAN THIS IS A STORY TOO?!" Germany screamed in a high-pitched voice. Everyone knew that Germany secretly had an extremely high-pitched voice, but he disguised it in order to coax little children into his van along with his accomplice, Spain. It still didn't work.

"PAGE CUT, PLEASE!" The author of this story declared.

~~~~ Page cut ~~~~~

Afterwards, the state of the lounge was a normal one. Like always. Complete chaos is normal in the lounge.

Canada and Sealand decided to share a corner and cut their wrists together, instead of by themselves.

America found pleasure in singing songs using the abused karaoke machine. The selection included America: Fuck Yeah, Never Gonna Give You Up, I'm Awesome and Like a Boss. Spain mentally flinched every time America began "Like a Boss". That was his song.

England amused himself and his fabulous eyebrows by typing "Sealand" into Microsoft Office Word repeatedly, and laughing every time the program tells him that Sealand does not exist.

Japan was cosplaying, like usual. Today he was a Sweet Lolita.

Korea was sitting in a chair, staring perversely at the Japanese man. Today's costume featured a perfect area for breast-groping.

China looked back and forth from Japan to Korea, and began backing away slowly.

Liechtenstein was secretly plotting her takeover of the world.

The rest of the nations, however, were completely bored.

"Sigh."

"Sigh."

"Sigh."

"Sigh."

"Sigh."

"Sigh aru."

But suddenly, one nation farted. Loudly.

America stopped singing, Canada and Sealand stopped cutting, and Japan even stopped taking awkward pictures of himself. Korea, however, still stared at Japan's every movement.

The room went into supreme chaos as every nation tried to point at a different culprit. A chorus of "HE DID IT! HE DID IT!" erupted all over the room.

It wasn't until Norway pointed when the source was found.

"DUUUDE! ICELAND, DON'T YOU EVER FART AGAIN! THAT'S NASTY!" Denmark screamed.

"What have you been eating, Iceland? No, no, never mind. I shouldn't ask," Finland said. "Oh, and may I ask something? Why haven't you said anything the entire fan fiction, Sweden?"

"Th' 'uth'r d'sn't w'nt t' typ' l'ke th's 'll th' t'me."

"…What?" A few countries asked after Sweden finished butchering the English language.

England suddenly ran to Iceland and punched him in the nose.

"BLOODY HELL! I CANNOT SMELL ANYMORE! GAH! I CANNOT SMELLLLLLL!"

"Calm down."

"I CANNOT SMEEEEELL! I MUST CLOSE MY AIRPORTS FOR THE SMELL IS SO HORRIBLE!"

At this time, Iceland had already joined Canada and Sealand in their wrist-cutting guild.


	5. My Mind Has Just Been Blown

**Author's note: So I have just realized after re-reading my story that I treat Spain as sorta my connection with the nations, and as the only sane character. Favoritism, yes?**

**Also, my last chapter sucked, and so does this one. I have writer's block.**

Russia was bored.

Russia should never, ever be bored.

Nothing was going on with him. America was talking to Belarus, Canada was flirting with Ukraine, Lithuania was in a corner with Poland, Latvia was cutting his wrists with Sealand and Estonia was with Finland. Prussia was currently in a fanfiction.

The Russian decided to try and chat with Estonia and Finland. They were both once his, right? The tall Russian man skipped over amiably to the other nations.

Estonia poked Finland. Trouble was coming. Although Finland was usually a pushover, he was not having a good day. Why was this? He was on his period. Yes. Finland, for some reason, could break all laws of nature by having a menstrual cycle.

"Pryvet, comrades! Become one with Mother Russia again, da?"

Finland's eye twitched.

Estonia took refuge with Sweden, who had just recently been smacked by the PMSing fin.

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"You are a weak nation, da? You can be protected if you become one with Mother Russia again!"

Finland's fists clenched, and Sweden began crying.

"BITCH I AM VERY WELL PROTECTED. HAVE YOU SEEN MY WAR VICTORIES? GO GOOGLE IT. YOU WILL SHIT IN YOUR FUCKING PLUS-SIZED PANTS. NEVER IN MY DAYS…"

Russia was taken aback. He slowly backed away as Finland continued his little rant.

"…BECAUSE I AM MOTHERFUCKING SANTA CLAUS! YOU HEARD ME! BITCHIN' IT UP, GIVIN' THE KIDDIES TOYS. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? SIKLHFF…"

Norway began walking up slowly to the enraged Fin.

"…LSA;IHDFO;AIURGFO;IAEHRJGFOIUHAF WAR EKHFKEFHLahflh AMAZING ;EIFHefh FATTY kjshfslhdflASH SEX…"

Norway then threw a giant sized trash-bag over the Fin and sat him in a random chair. He then produced a chocolate bar from his pocket.

Not shaken by the attack, Russia walked to Latvia. He was _pretty_ sure that Latvia didn't have a "time of the month".

"Latvia, I have an idea that will cure your little trembling problem!"

The Russian stared down at the small Latvian. It was a bit difficult to not look down on him. I mean, he's only, like 5 feet tall!

"W-What?"

"I have something that will stop you from shaking."

"Wh-What are y-"

Latvia was abruptly cut off by the enormous Russian, who began to shove a vibrator up the young boy's ass.

"!" Estonia screamed.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM?" Lithuania yelled.

"LATVIAAAAAA!"

"ESTONIAAAAAAA! SHUT UP!" Screamed Lithuania.

"LITHUANIAAAAAA!"

"ESTONIAAAA!"

"ESTONIAAAAA!" Estonia yelled back.

"Wha- nevermind. WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO LATIVA?" Lithuania called.

"I'm equalizing his trembling!" Russia said in glee.

Poor Latvia was now having a seizure while the other nations watched in horror. Estonia was screaming random country names.

Russia pushed the vibrator in further and began to sing. He was belting out the ever-so-difficult lyrics of Eduard Khil's "Trololo" in perfect tone.

Belarus immediately jumped up from her seat. "We shall play that song at our wedding!" She screamed in excitement.

Ukraine stared for a moment and burst into tears. "Why aren't there any words? WHY?" She inquired between sobs.

"Ja," Prussia began, "There is a serious absence of a particular word…."

Russia ripped the pleasure device out of Latvia's ass. "What word?" He asked innocently.

"Oh, I was not aware that not everyone knew of the word."

"Oh Gott, please no…" Germany sighed.

"OH BIRD BIRD BIRD, BIRD IS THE WORD, BIRD BIRD BIRD BIRD BIRD IS THE WORD! RUSSIA! DON'T YOU KNOW ABOUT THE BIRD? HEY I'M GONNA TELL YOU ABOUT THE BIRD! OH AND BY THE WAY, YOU JUST LOST THE GAME!"

Sweden, an obsessive player of "The Game", began to sob.

"FUUUUUUU-" Hong Kong screamed, running up to Prussia, but was automatically dragged back by China, who repeatedly mumbled: "Mineee….My preciousssssss…."

Liechtenstein wrote "Kill Prussia" on her to-do list.

Canada used his magical invisibility powers to kick the Prussian in the balls.

"What is "The Game?" Russia asked.

Everyone in the room turned and stared at the Russian. "SHUN THE NON-BELIEVER!" They yelled in unison.

"No, really, what is it?"

A few people began to explain The Game to Russia. The others broke apart and did…anything they could possibly do to occupy their time.

Austria walked up to Hungary.

"Love?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Make me a sandwich?"

"Why?"

"You are the wife."

"We're divorced."

"You're a woman."

"Make your own sandwich, Roddy."

"MAKE ME A GODAMNED SANDWICH, WOMAN!"

Hungary bitch slapped Austria. He cried.

"MAKE YA OWN SANDWICH."

"NEIN!"

"I'M DIVORCING YOU."

"BUT I THOUGHT WE WEREN'T MARRIED."

"FUCK YOU FOR BEING RIGHT."

Meanwhile, Veneciano found himself in a bit of a predicament.

"Uh. Who are you?"

"I am the younger you!" replied the cutest little cross-dresser ever.

"Fuck you, author! I am the cutest cross-dresser ever!" Poland yelled to the ceiling.

"So..there's two of us?" Italy asked.

"Si."

"Why…? Nevermind. Anything is possible."

"Yo Italy! Why aren't you your hyper little self?" America asked.

Italy grew extremely quiet. "The world is mine," he grumbled.

"Uh….Italy?" Germany asked in fear.

"America…I am your father," Italy asked in a tone that could easily beat Russia's creepiest tone.

"Nah, Iggy is!"

"What the hell does "Iggy" mean, git?"

Japan glanced at England and America, opened his mouth to give them a Japanese lesson, but then decided that it was not worth it.

"It's your nickname! It's better than "Daddy" or something!" America replied.

"I am not your father! Technically, I am your adoptive brother!"

"There goes my entire mind…" America mumbled.

"Si…I am your father…" Chibitalia said in a menacing tone.

"Okay, that's just messed up and creepy," England said.

"We are both your father…" Italy said.

"Si…now love us…"

"What the HELL is going on?" America asked.

"Would you like to meet your mother~?" Italy asked.

"Uhm. I'm pretty sure that this cannot get creepier, so sure."

"Well, she is not here right now, but I am pretty sure that you know him already."

"It's a he? What is going on?" America sighed.

"Si…his name is Lady GaGa."

"WHAT."

"lolwut?" Everyone in the room asked.

"It's true!" Chibitalia screamed.

"…Why do I love him/her…Chibitalia has obviously gone insane…" Holy Roman Empire mumbled.

Ignoring what just happened, Chibitalia turned to Holy Roman Empire. "You are the younger version of somebody here too, right?"

"J-Ja…I am…"

"Who was it again?"

Holy Roman Empire scanned the room for his future self.

He pointed to Liechtenstein.

"Wait. I thought I was you," Germany said.

"Nein. I'm Liechtenstein," Holy Roman Empire said.

"Actually, it's true," Liechtenstein said.

"Wait. How did you get a sex change without me knowing?" Switzerland asked.

"I never got a sex change."

"…So you're a guy?"

"Nein. I'm a girl," Holy Roman Empire replied.

"My mind has just been blown," Poland grumbled.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly sure what is going on here," replied Belgium.

"Don't ask questions," Liechtenstein told everyone.

**The whole "creepy Italy" thing comes from my Facebook RP. I am Feliciano "EvilItaly" Vargas on FB, and I just HAD to make Feli a creeper in this chapter. Creeptastic Italy has become my headcanon.**

** And the Holy Roman Empire is Liechtenstein thing came partly from an extremely strange conversation. **

**Short chapter is short. Sorry. Anyways, review, review, review, my pretties! The more reviews I get, the more I will want to write. Nobody wants to write a story that nobody cares about, da?**


	6. YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO KILL ME

**WHO IS THIS FAGGOT WHO HASN'T POSTED ANOTHER CHAPTER SINCE …FOREVER?**

**ME.**

**So someone mentioned this story to me the other day, and it made me remember that I hadn't updated in a while. After re-reading the first few chapters, I decided that continuing would be pointless. Why? Because some of the pairings in my story now make me want to kick puppies off of a bridge, such as GerIta.**

**Ew. GerIta.**

**ANYWAYS, I PROMISE THAT THIS WILL NOT BE THE LAST YOU'LL HEAR OF ME AND MY CRACK STORIES. I promise to keep you updated and will alert you if I decide to write a new story similar to this one.**

**Please excuse me while I drink tea and slam my head against a window.**


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